Who Knew
by dcent
Summary: Santana looked at the girl in front of her. This wasn't her Brittany. Her usually crystal blue eyes were now a dark, almost stormy grey, and the sweet, bubbly Brittany that she called her girlfriend was now replaced by this angry, screaming stranger.


"I told you not to let it happen again!" Brittany yelled, throwing a chair.

It rushed past Santana's head, the Latina flinching as the she felt the wind from the moving chair whip past her face. She tensed as she heard the metal crash against the wall behind her. She sat still and swallowed hard, her hands balled up into fists in her lap.

She looked at the girl in front of her. This wasn't her Brittany. Her usually crystal blue eyes were now a dark, almost stormy grey, and the sweet, bubbly Brittany that she called her girlfriend was now replaced by this angry, screaming stranger.

"It was just a hug, Bri – " Santana began, but she was interrupted as Brittany's hand met her face.

The sound of the slap scared Santana just as much as the actual slap itself.

It surprised her every time Brittany hit her.

She drew a sharp breath in, her cheek getting hot. She gritted her teeth and looked down. She heard Brittany sigh exasperatedly, and she knew that Brittany had crossed her arms, the stance she took when she was disappointed.

"Now look what you made me do."

Santana kept her head down. She could feel the tears pricking behind her eyes. Sure, the slap hurt, but that wasn't the reason she started crying. She hated when Brittany was like this. Even more, she hated being the reason why.

She heard Brittany sigh again, but this time softer. She kneeled down in front of Santana, and took her face in her hands. Santana winced as Brittany ran her thumb over the hand shaped welt that she knew was forming on her cheek.

"I'm sorry, San," Brittany whispered, her thumbs wiping away the tears that had spilled from Santana's eyes. "It's just, I get so mad whenever I see you with someone else."

Santana sniffled and nodded.

"It was just a hug, Britt," Santana whispered.

She drew her face back instinctively, knowing she shouldn't have talked back, but Brittany kept her hands on her face.

"I know, babe." Brittany's voice was soft and gentle again.

She was back, the Brittany that Santana loved.

"I just can't stand the thought of sharing you with someone, anyone. Not even Quinn."

Santana nodded again, her eyes still on the ground.

"But Quinn's just a friend. And you know I love you, Britt. More than anything or anyone in the world."

Brittany sighed.

"I know you do, San. I just get really jealous. You know that. Promise you won't let it happen again?"

Santana finally looked up. Brittany's eyes were crystal blue again, the storm subsiding, and Santana relaxed under gaze. She broke away from Brittany's hands, throwing her arms around the blonde's neck and pulling her in for a hug.

"I swear, Britt, I swear. It'll never happen again. I'm so sorry."

Brittany stroked her back comfortingly.

"It's okay, San. I forgive you," she whispered.

Santana pulled back, the tears streaming down her face.

"Shh, it's okay, baby, it's okay," Brittany cooed.

Santana nodded, and hiccupped, trying to get in breaths between sobs.

"You love me?" Brittany asked, a small smile playing on her lips.

Santana took a moment to calm down and gather her words.

"Yes."

"No, Santana. Say it. Say that you love me."

Her voice had a twinge of the hardness from before, and her blue eyes began to cloud again.

Santana sniffled and swallowed.

"I love you, Brittany. I love you so much."

Brittany smiled, all traces of anger dissipating.

"I love you, too, San."

She leaned forward and kissed Santana, first on the forehead, then on the nose, then on her cheek.

Santana drew in a small breath, the feeling of Brittany's soft lips on the tender skin of her cheek making her wince. Brittany pressed another kiss to her cheek, this time a little harder.

Santana stiffened. It hurt, but she didn't want Brittany to stop.

"I'm sorry I hit you, baby," Brittany murmured against her cheek, the movement of her lips making Santana's already burning skin tingle even more.

She sat still, unable to respond.

"Does it hurt?"

Santana nodded slowly.

"Hmm," Brittany hummed against her cheek. "Let me kiss it and make it better. Will that work?"

Santana nodded again Brittany pressed one more kiss to her cheek. It stung like hell, but Santana just swallowed and reminded herself that it could be worse.

Brittany drew back, and Santana let her eyes fall to the ground again. Brittany took her chin between her finger and her thumb and lifted her head so they were eye to eye.

"My little warrior," she said, her eyes wandering all over Santana's face. "And what's a warrior without a few battle scars, right?"

She smiled again, and Santana felt her heart melt. This girl, this Brittany, with the smiling blue eyes, the kind, gentle voice, the sweet, soft kisses – this was the girl she fell in love with, the one she couldn't live without.

Brittany leaned in and kissed her on the lips, and in that moment, Santana forgot everything – the yelling, the screaming, the slap – all was forgiven under the love and promise that Brittany gave her in that one kiss.

Just as she leaned in for more, Brittany pulled away.

"Uh-uh," she said, playfully wagging her finger back and forth. "We have school tomorrow, and I'm tired. But if you're good, maybe I'll let you be the big spoon tonight."

Santana nodded.

"I'll be good, Britt, I swear."

Brittany giggled and tapped her on the nose.

"I know you will. You're my good little girl. And that's why I love you."

Santana watched as Brittany got up and walked towards the stairs. She sat still for a moment and her hand moved up to her cheek. She could feel the raised outline of Brittany's hand on her cheek. The skin was hot against her fingertips.

"San?" Santana looked up at Brittany, whose hand was extended towards her. "Don't you wanna cuddle?"

Santana blinked, before standing up a little too eagerly and rushing to grab Brittany's hand.

Brittany laughed.

"I love you, baby."

Santana smiled, intertwining her fingers between Brittany's.

"I love you, too, Britt-Britt."

* * *

"Hm. I see you have gotten yourself into another debacle, Santana."

"Yeah, why? Wanna be next, Berry?" Santana spat at the short brunette who walked past her.

The girl simply gave her another look, her eyes lingering on the red welt on Santana's cheek, and walked faster.

Santana snorted.

"What a hobbit."

People were used to her coming to school with a couple bumps and bruises. She was somewhat of a hard ass and a bitch, and people usually just assumed she got into a couple girl fights here and there. No one would ever guess that most, if not all of them, were with Brittany.

She looked at the blonde beside her, their pinkies linked together. She swung their hands as they walked down the hallway. They turned the corner and ran into Quinn. Santana swallowed hard, and she felt Brittany squeeze her pinky so tight it started to hurt.

"Hey Brittany. Santana," Quinn said smiling.

Santana just looked at her.

"Hi, Quinn!" Brittany said brightly, her cheerful tone contradicted by the death grip she had on Santana's pinky. Santana watched as Quinn furrowed her brow and tilted her head.

"Really, Santana? Another fight? I swear, your last bruise just healed like last week."

Santana cleared her throat and opened her mouth to speak but was interrupted by Brittany.

"I know, right? I keep telling her to be more careful, and to stay away from _certain_ _people_, but she never listens. And then she ends up with boo-boos all over her."

Santana swallowed.

She knew that _certain people_ meant Quinn.

She cleared her throat again.

"Uhm, yeah I know, Britt. I told you I'd be, uh, more careful next time."

Brittany smiled and kissed her on the cheek.

"There better not be a next time," she whispered, her harsh tone making Santana grit her teeth.

Brittany gave her another kiss on the cheek and looked at Quinn.

"See you later, Quinn!" she said, walking away and pulling Santana behind her.

Santana noted the skeptical look on Quinn's face, who arched her eyebrow before shaking her head and walking away.

* * *

After school was cheer practice. She and Brittany were in separate groups though; since Santana was smaller, she was usually a flyer and since Brittany was taller and more muscular, she was usually a base. They were going over a new routine so the bases and the flyers were separated to learn their respective parts.

Santana sat on the bleachers, watching Brittany do stunts, throwing girls up in the air and catching them effortlessly, almost like she was playing catch with a tennis ball. Her eyes roamed over Brittany's body, instantly drawn to the curve of her biceps and the muscle definition of her back.

Brittany turned around and locked eyes with her, winking and smiling. Santana smiled back, her heart beating double time and a warm feeling in her stomach. She kept her eyes on Brittany, who had looked away from her with her eyebrows scrunched together, a storm forming in her blue eyes. Santana followed her gaze to the girl beside her.

Quinn.

"Hey, San."

Santana looked up at Quinn then back at Brittany. Brittany had turned around, but Santana could tell her arms were crossed. She swallowed hard. She knew Brittany was already mad.

She cleared her throat.

"Uhm, hi, Quinn."

Quinn sat down beside her and let out a tired sigh. Quinn was a little smaller than Santana so of course, she was a flyer too.

"What do you think of the new routine?"

Santana bit her lip, nervously looking back at Brittany, whose back was still turned.

"It's okay. No biggie. I mean, we've done harder stunts before."

"Yeah, you're right," she said, leaning back, putting her hands behind her head and her feet on the bleachers in front of her.

She let out another sigh.

"So, how'd you get that?" Quinn asked, gesturing towards Santana's cheek.

"Got in a fight."

Santana figured the less she said, the faster Quinn would get bored of her and walk away.

"Well, duh," Quinn said, rolling her eyes. "I know that. But _how_?"

Santana crossed her legs and looked down at her nails, trying to think of a story.

"Some girl was talking shit, so I had to put her in her place. She was just lucky enough to get a slap in."

Santana looked back at Brittany who was talking with some other girls, laughing. Santana could tell by the way her arms were still crossed that she was still mad, despite the smile on her face. She knew she'd see the full extent of her anger when they got home.

Santana looked back at Quinn who had that same skeptical look from before when she saw her in the hallway.

"What?" Santana snapped.

"Nothing."

Santana sat back, opening and closing her hands in her lap, nervous about what Brittany would do later, after practice.

"San?"

"Yeah, Quinn," Santana said, irritated.

"We're best friends, right?"

The question caught her off guard, and Santana looked at her, surprised.

They had always been close, but she never really thought of themselves as best friends. Brittany had always been her best friend.

She thought about it for a second. She and Quinn had cheered together since they were freshmen, and they had even become co-captains together their sophomore year, even though that was a title only reserved for seniors.

Quinn was the first person she told when she first started going out with Brittany, to which Quinn responded, "Well, it's about damn time."

She was the first person Quinn came to when she thought she might be pregnant, and Santana had even bought the pregnancy test for her. The more Santana thought about it, the more she began to realize that they were.

"Yeah, Quinn, I guess we are."

"Okay. And I can talk to you about anything, right? And you wouldn't tell anyone?"

Santana tilted her head.

"Of course, Q. I never told anyone about you being pregnant, remember? Not even Britt. No one knew except me and you until you decided to become public with it."

Quinn nodded.

"Mhm, I remember. And I don't know how to thank you for that, Santana. You even fought some girl who was talking trash about me that same week, too, remember?"

Santana nodded and winced, remembering when Brittany had found out that she had kept that secret from her. That week, she came to school with a few scratches and more than enough bruises to make people think she had lost that fight.

Quinn sat up and put her hand on Santana's knee.

"Thank you, Santana. Really."

Santana's eyes shot back to Brittany who was sitting on the opposite side of the gym, her eyes narrowed and zeroed in on Santana.

Santana stood up quickly, making Quinn fall back a little.

"It was nothing, Quinn, honest. I know you'd do the same for me, you know?"

She grabbed her stuff and started making her way down the bleachers.

"Santana, wait. Practice isn't even over."

Santana turned around and shifted her gym bag onto her shoulder.

"I know, I just – I don't feel good. Damn cafeteria food, right?"

She turned around and took a step.

"Santana."

Santana stood still, her back to Quinn.

"You know you can do the same, right?" Quinn whispered.

Santana turned around.

"The same what?"

"Talk to me about anything. And I wouldn't tell anyone."

Santana swallowed. She could feel tears forming behind her eyes. She had never told anyone about her and Brittany's…_situation._

She swallowed again, and started walking down the stairs again.

"Yeah, I know, Q. Thanks," she called over her shoulder.

She walked quickly to the locker room, glad that everyone was on the floor so no one could see her cry.

* * *

She sat down on one of the benches in the girls' locker room, and breathed in shakily, a few tears escaping from her eyes. She wiped them away quickly, and squeezed her eyes shut. Why did Quinn always have to be so damn intuitive?

_Must be that fucking mother's intuition_, Santana thought to herself.

Santana knew that Quinn knew that something was going on. She got up and punched the locker. The pain shot into her hand, and she instantly regretted it, praying she didn't break something.

"Hmm, poor baby."

Santana spun around, surprised to see Brittany leaning against the last locker, her arms still crossed.

"Britt," she managed to choke out.

Brittany walked towards her until they were only a few inches apart. Brittany reached up and Santana instinctively flinched. Brittany laughed, but instead of her usual bubbly laughter, this one was hard and steely.

"Don't worry, babe," she said, taking a strand of hair and tucking it behind Santana's ear. "You have nothing to worry about. Not here, anyways."

Santana clenched her jaw as Brittany leaned down to whisper in her ear.

"Just you wait till we get home."

Brittany gave her a kiss on the cheek and spun around on her heel, walking back out to the gym.

Santana sat back down on the bench, a twisting feeling in her stomach. Brittany might as well have slapped her right then and there. She wanted to crawl out of her skin and just be someone else.

She sighed, pushing all the air out of her lungs. She felt like she was gonna throw up. She stood up and went into a stall. She kneeled down in front of the toilet, sticking a finger down her throat.

She felt everything come up, burning her throat and splashing into the toilet. She coughed hard and retched, forcing more to come up. She spit, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. She flushed the toilet, then sniffled, sobbing quietly as she sat against the wall of the bathroom stall.

She pulled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, trying to muffle her sobs as she buried her face into her arms. She sat there for a while until she heard the other girls shuffle into the locker room.

She had stopped crying a while ago, but she knew the lack of make-up on her face would give her away. She stood up and walked out of the stall, bumping right into Quinn.

"Santana, where'd you go – Hey, are you okay?"

Santana kept her eyes down, hoping Quinn wouldn't notice they were a little puffy.

"Yeah, must be food poisoning or something," she mumbled, brushing past the smaller blonde, walking towards her locker.

She shook her head. She wanted to talk to Quinn, but she knew Brittany would be furious, especially if it was about _this_.

Her heart beat faster when she saw Brittany, but not in the good way. She remembered Brittany's less than subtle threat. She waited beside her, leaning against the lockers and listening to her chatter to the other girls.

"Okay, bye guys, I'll see you tomorrow!" Brittany called as the other girls walked away.

Santana stood up straight, shoving her hands into her jacket pocket.

"Ready to go home, babe?" Brittany said with a smile, but Santana could see that her eyes were already dark. "Your house, tonight, okay? I know your parents will be at work and mine will be home, so it'll be better that way."

Santana nodded as Brittany held her pinky out. Santana swallowed and hooked her pinky into Brittany's, leading the way out the door and towards her car.

* * *

Santana sat on her bed, Brittany standing over her, her arms crossed over her chest.

"So, are you cheating on me?"

Santana looked up disbelievingly.

"What, Britt? You know I would never – " Brittany's hand hit her face, the same place as the day before.

Santana squeezed her eyes shut and clenched her jaw, breathing out hard through her nose.

"Don't fucking lie to me, Santana. I mean, you _must_ be cheating on me. Why else would you keep going back to her, huh? After I _just_ told you not to let it happen again. God, Santana. She was practically running her hand up your thigh. And you liked it, didn't you?" Brittany's voice was a harsh whisper, spoken through clenched teeth.

Santana hated when Brittany spoke like that. She'd rather her yell.

Santana opened her mouth to explain, but she shut her mouth quickly, knowing that it was useless. Brittany always saw what she wanted to see. It didn't matter if it really happened or not. There was no use in explaining.

She looked down, trying to avoid Brittany's glare.

Brittany scoffed.

"I knew it. Fine. If you wanna be a little slut and fuck around with Quinn, then go ahead. Lucky her. At least _you_ won't get her pregnant," Brittany said viciously.

She turned and grabbed her stuff, walking towards the door.

Santana shot up from her bed, grabbing Brittany's wrist before she could walk out the door. Brittany's head whipped around to glare at her, the anger in her eyes giving Santana chills.

Before she could say anything, Santana kissed her, their lips smashing together. She squeezed her eyes shut, kissing Brittany hard, hoping it would keep her from leaving.

To Santana's surprise, Brittany kissed her back, dropping her backpack and closing the door, allowing Santana to push her up against it. Santana's hands moved quickly, pulling off Brittany's jacket desperately, scared that Brittany would try to leave again.

Brittany's hands gripped Santana's waist, and she quickly spun Santana around, slamming her up against the door. Santana gasped at how hard Brittany pushed her, but she kept their lips locked together. Brittany pulled her sweater off, her fingers playing with the zipper of Santana's uniform. She unzipped her, and Santana wiggled out of her uniform as she struggled to do the same to Brittany's. Her eyes were closed, and she cursed herself for being so nervous as she fumbled with the zipper.

She knew that once Brittany got out of her clothes, she wasn't going to leave.

Brittany must have noticed she was having a hard time, because she reached behind her and undid her own zipper, letting her uniform fall to the floor. Santana reached up and grabbed Brittany's face, trying to get as close to her as she could.

She squeezed her eyes shut even tighter as Brittany dragged her nails down her arms. She took in a breath, and she felt Brittany smile against her lips.

Santana pushed against Brittany, but Brittany held her ground. Santana pushed harder, shoving her towards the bed. She pushed her again, her legs guiding Brittany's backwards until they were at the foot of the bed.

She gripped Brittany's shoulders, throwing her down onto the bed. She crawled on top of her, straddling the blonde. Brittany's hands reached up for Santana's hair, but Santana caught them and slammed them down onto the bed above Brittany's head. She kissed her hard again, holding down Brittany's hands with one hand and undoing her bra with the other.

Now that she wasn't nervous that Brittany was going to leave, her hands could finally function properly.

Brittany's bra practically unclasped itself in her hand, and she threw the bra to the side. She let her hands slide over Brittany's body, over her breasts, and she felt Brittany drag her nails down her back.

She kissed down Brittany's body, biting gently at a few places. The moans that came from Brittany's mouth made Santana shiver, and her own breath became ragged as she kissed the hem of Brittany's underwear.

She felt Brittany pull on her hair.

"San," she moaned.

Santana hooked her finger onto her underwear and pulled down, and Brittany fidgeted under her, trying to kick them off. Santana kissed right under her belly button one more time, before sticking her tongue into Brittany. She felt Brittany shudder under her, and Santana worked faster, her tongue moving deeper, until she was breathing as hard as Brittany. She felt Brittany's hands pushing down on her head, encouraging her to move deeper, and Santana did, until she felt Brittany come, her muscles contracting and releasing around her tongue.

Santana kissed her way up Brittany' body until she got to her lips. She breathed in Brittany's gasps, the sound of Brittany's quiet whimpers making her a little breathless. She pulled away and looked at Brittany, whose eyes were still closed, sweat glistening on her brow. She opened her eyes and stared back before grabbing Santana's hips and rolling her over so they switched positions.

"My turn," Brittany panted into Santana's ear.

Santana gulped and bit her lip as Brittany gripped her arms savagely.

Santana knew she'd have bruises there in the morning.

Brittany kissed her, slowly at first, then pushed her tongue into Santana's mouth. She pulled back and Santana gasped for air, wincing when she felt Brittany bite down on her lip. She inhaled sharply when Brittany let go, and she could taste the metallic flavor of blood when she pulled her lip back into her mouth.

Brittany's kisses moved to her neck, where she bit down and sucked hard, and Santana knew that hickey would turn into a bruise, the first of many.

The more kisses Brittany placed on her neck, the harder she bit down on each one, until Santana was sure she had drawn blood from at least one of them.

Brittany moved her lips back to Santana's and kissed her, her tongue slipping back into Santana's mouth. Brittany reached under her and undid her bra, and Santana arched her back to allow her to slip it off. Brittany slipped it off and let it fall to the floor.

She pressed her fingertips into Santana's collarbone, digging her nails into her skin. She dragged her nails down slowly, and Santana could feel her nails scrape against her breasts. Santana gasped and gritted her teeth. Brittany's nails continued to drag down her body till they caught on Santana's underwear, dragging them down too.

Brittany's face hovered over Santana's and at the same time as she leaned down to kiss Santana, she pushed her fingers into her. Santana gasped sharply at how hard Brittany pushed into her, but she was cut off by Brittany's lips on her own. Brittany's fingers pumped into her, in and out until Santana couldn't even kiss her back.

"Unnhhh," she moaned loudly, her breaths short and ragged as she came, her muscles still contracting even after Brittany removed her fingers.

She breathed out slowly, the breath cooling her chest which was damp with sweat. Brittany leaned over her panting, and Santana panted too, their bodies sticking to each other. Brittany buried her face into Santana's shoulder.

"I'm sorry, Britt-Britt," Santana whispered into her ear.

Brittany sighed and propped herself with one hand, the other cupping Santana's cheek. Santana leaned her face into Brittany's hand, the pain from the slap before sufficiently dulled. Brittany smiled down at her sweetly.

"I know you are, baby. I know. I mean, can you blame Quinn? You _are_ really sexy."

She leaned down and kissed Santana again, and Santana smiled into the kiss. Brittany relaxed and laid back down. Santana snuggled closer so they were face to face.

"You're just friends, right?" Brittany whispered.

Instead of anger this time, Santana could see a hint of fear in her blue eyes.

"Just friends, Britt. I swear. You are the only one I want," she assured her.

Santana melted at the sight of Brittany's smile.

"You're the only one I want, too. I love you, Sanny."

Santana smiled at the nickname.

"I love you, too, Britt-Britt."

* * *

The next day was Friday, and Santana was glad for it. That meant it was the last day she'd have to worry about dodging Quinn until at least Monday. Plus, the weather had gotten unusually cool, allowing her to throw on a jacket and a scarf to hide the bruises and hickeys Brittany had left the day before. She slipped back into her Cheerios uniform, quietly going about her morning ritual so as not to wake up the blonde.

Brittany always got ready really fast, and Santana knew it was best to let Brittany sleep in until after she was dressed.

Santana sat at her dresser, carefully applying her eye makeup and lipstick. The red mark on her cheek was starting to turn a familiar purple, and Santana knew it was from the most recent slap she had taken to it the day before. She debated on covering it up with makeup, but it was already nearing that dark shade of purple that putting makeup on it wouldn't actually hide it. She sighed. People were gonna stare anyways.

She ran her fingers through her dark hair before pulling it into a high pony.

She walked over to the bed where Brittany was sleeping peacefully, a small smile on her lips. She was sleeping on her stomach, still naked, the comforter bunched up under her, leaving her back completely exposed.

Santana smiled at the sight, sitting down carefully on the bed, and running her fingers through the mess of blonde around Brittany's face, a warm feeling spreading through her.

Santana wondered how one person could make her feel so loved and so hated at the same time. Her eyebrows furrowed at the memory of what had happened the day before, but she shook it out of her brain. That wasn't her Brittany, this was. The beautiful blonde who smiled when she slept.

Santana leaned down and kissed Brittany's shoulder before kissing her on the lips. To her surprise, Brittany kissed her back.

"Good morning, babe," the blonde whispered, her voice still husky from not being fully awake.

"Morning, Britt. Come on, it's time to go to school."

* * *

Brittany held her hand, their fingers interlaced as they walked down the hallway. It felt like it was going to be a good day.

"Damn. Who got you good, Lopez?" Puck said, smirking as he leaned against the lockers.

"Fuck off, Puck," Santana growled, moving towards him, held back only by Brittany's hand. She looked at the blonde, who quirked up an eyebrow as if to say, "You know better."

Santana bit her lip and let out an exasperated sigh.

Puck just shook his head, his smirk still plastered on his face as he pushed off the locker and walked away.

Brittany kissed her on the cheek.

"Good girl," she whispered.

For some reason, whenever Brittany called her that, Santana felt a twang of pride and shame at the same time, like she was happy Brittany was proud of her, but ashamed that Brittany treated her like her pet.

Santana shook her head, pushing the thought out her head. It was going to be a good day.

Just as soon as she had finished her thought, Quinn came out of the office, staring down at papers in her hands and brushing past Brittany.

Santana felt Brittany tense at the interaction, her nails digging into Santana's hand, causing her to gasp sharply. The sound made Quinn look up.

"Oh. Hey, Brittany. Santana. I just got the new routines for the flyers, San. Looks like Coach changed them. Again. We're gonna have to stay after today."

Santana rolled her eyes and groaned. They usually didn't have practices on Fridays.

"I was really looking forward to getting home early today, too," Brittany said, disappointed.

"Don't worry, Britt. The bases have the same routine. Sue just wants the flyers today."

Santana's eyes widened as she bit her lip, still staring at her girlfriend, unsure of what her reaction would be.

"Oh, okay. Awesome," Brittany said, a smile on her lips, but her eyes a dark grey.

Santana felt Brittany's grip tighten on her hand. Santana clenched her jaw, removing any form of emotion on her face.

Brittany was angry.

Quinn looked at the two of them, her eyes moving back and forth between both girls, her eyebrows furrowed.

After another few seconds of awkwardness, Quinn broke the silence.

"Okay, well I guess I'll see you later, Britt. See you after school, Santana," she said, walking away, her attention turned back to the papers in her hand.

Brittany immediately let go of Santana's hand and brushed past her, walking towards class.

_So much for a good day,_ Santana thought.

* * *

Santana stood beside Quinn in front of the other cheerleaders.

Here, she was head bitch. All she had to do was shoot a girl a look, and they'd straighten up.

"Why the hell would Sue make the flyers stay without the bases? That doesn't even make sense," Santana said, turning her head towards Quinn but keeping her gaze on the group of girls in front of her.

"I don't know, but when has she ever made sense?"

It was true. As crazy as Coach Sylvester was, she always managed to lead her Cheerios to victory.

"Why are you still wearing that scarf?"

Santana's hand shot up defensively to the material around her neck, nervously touching the material.

She saw one the other cheerleaders give her an odd look. Santana shot her a glare, and the girl immediately looked to the ground.

"Because it's fucking cold in here, Fabray."

Quinn just quirked up her eyebrow.

"Okay, S."

Santana rolled her eyes.

Quinn just wouldn't quit.

"Whatever. Five, six, seven eight!" she yelled at the girls in front of her, watching them perform their newly given routine.

* * *

As co-captains, Santana and Quinn had to stay after practice to go over the other girls' progress. There were charts and boxes to be checked and comments to be made about each girl's performance.

Santana sighed, tapping her pencil against her temple.

"Samantha? I don't even know which one that is," Santana groaned, trying to fill out the paper.

"She's in the middle row, light brown hair and brown eyes. Has her belly button pierced," Quinn offered.

"You just described like half of the girls we have," Santana said, flicking her pencil onto the desk.

"Fine, just give it to me. I'll finish them up," Quinn said, grabbing Santana's stack of evaluations and filling them out quickly.

"Does this mean I can go?" Santana asked, looking at her phone, a text from Brittany on the screen. _I'm waiting, _it read.

Santana sighed and rubbed her forehead.

"No, Lopez. If I'm gonna do your work, then you're gonna at least sit here and suffer boredom with me. It's called being a co-captain."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever Fabray," Santana said, typing back.

_Almost done, just a few more evaluations to do then I'm home. _

She locked her phone screen and put her head on the desk. She could just imagine Brittany standing with her arms crossed over her chest.

"So what's going on, San?"

Santana gritted her teeth. She knew Quinn was gonna ask.

She flipped her head over, but sat up quickly when she leaned down on her cheek. She winced sharply before replying.

"Not much, besides the fact that we're stuck in this shithole after hours. I mean, I don't even like being in school when I have to be, let alone on a Friday afternoon, with you."

Santana hoped her rudeness would deflect Quinn's question.

But the smaller blonde pressed on.

"So you'd rather be at home with Brittany?" Quinn said, her eyes still on the papers in front of her.

"Well, yeah," Santana said less than confidently, putting her head back down.

"Mhm," Quinn said, still not looking up from the evaluations.

Santana rolled her eyes.

"Look, Quinn. If you have something to say, just say it."

Quinn just continued with her work.

"Why does your cheek look worse today? Isn't it supposed to get better as time goes by?" the smaller blonde said, still not looking up.

Frustrated, Santana knocked the pencil out of Quinn's hand.

Quinn turned to face her, an equally frustrated look on her face.

"If you want to get out of here, then let me finish these evaluations, Santana," she said, reaching across the desk and grabbing the pencil. "And you still didn't answer my question."

Santana rolled her eyes.

"You know, what? Fuck you, Quinn."

"I'm pretty sure that's what Brittany thinks you're doing here," Quinn said quietly, scribbling comments next to certain girls' names.

Santana sighed.

Here it was. Quinn knew.

"How long have you known?" Santana whispered.

Quinn finally put her pencil down and looked up.

"For a few weeks now. I had always wondered, but I figured it out a couple weeks ago, when you came to school with that black eye. During practice, when I came down and Brittany caught me, she kind of dropped me. She told me it was because she sprained her hand, but I saw that her knuckle was bruised. It was the day after I found an adoptive mother for Beth. Remember? I ran up to you and picked you up and hugged you because I was so happy. Then I noticed that any time I had any kind of physical contact with you, you'd come to school the next day looking like you got into a fight. I just put two and two together," Quinn said, turning back to the papers in front of her.

"I never knew Brittany was like that. She's always so sweet and innocent," Quinn whispered.

Santana closed her eyes, holding her head with her hands, the tears threatening.

Quinn turned her attention back to the Latina.

"It's okay, San."

"It's really not, Q. It's really not," Santana said quietly, a few tears spilling over.

Quinn inched closer to her, placing her hand on her back to comfort her.

"Why don't you just leave, Santana?"

"Because I love her!" Santana said angrily, slamming her fist on the table, causing Quinn to jump.

"Because I love her," Santana said again quietly, sobbing.

"It's just that sometimes she gets mad, and it's my fault every time. Like I know that I shouldn't do things, but sometimes it just happens, and she just gets so angry. But she loves me, Quinn. She does." Santana said, but even as she said the words, she realized how ridiculous it all sounded.

"But is that love, Santana? Is this – " Quinn said, brushing a tear from her bruised cheek, " – is this love?"

Santana choked a sob.

"I don't know, Quinn. I don't know," she said helplessly. "Every time after we fight, she's so soft and gentle. Like, the Brittany I fell in love with, you know? And she's so loving and kind that sometimes I can't even believe she's the same person who hit me. And when she's sweet like that, it doesn't matter how many bruises or scratches I have, because when she tells me she loves me and when she kisses me, it's all worth it. Every black eye, every bruise, all of it. It's all worth it to hear her say she loves me," Santana admitted quietly, her eyes closed, the tears still streaming down her face.

Quinn pulled her into her body, hugging her close.

Santana's body instinctively tensed at the action.

Brittany would be so pissed if she ever found out about this.

But Quinn ignored her stiffness and actually held her closer, rubbing her arm comfortingly. Santana sighed into the hug, her body relaxing.

"You can't keep doing this, San. It'll kill you."

Santana flinched at the comment, knowing Quinn wasn't just using some cliché.

Sometimes she felt like Brittany _could_ kill her, emotionally and physically.

"I know," Santana said, her voice barely a whisper. "But I could never just leave her. The world makes sense when I'm with her. She's my soul mate, Quinn. Some people go their whole lives never being able to find theirs. How can I just leave mine? She's my everything."

Quinn held her tightly, slowly rocking her back and forth. Santana could feel her body shaking from her silent sobs. She felt Quinn tug lightly on her scarf.

"Come on, S. Let me see," she said quietly.

Santana sat up and obediently removed the scarf.

Even though her eyes were fixed on the floor, she knew it was bad by the way Quinn gasped.

"Fuck, San."

Quinn gently ran her fingers over the purple splotches that marred the Latina's usually unblemished skin. There was more purple than tan. Santana winced. Most of them were still really sore.

"Fuck," Quinn said again. "And Brittany did all of this?"

Santana nodded.

"They started out as hickeys, but she was really mad at me yesterday."

Quinn opened her mouth to ask why but was stopped short when she remembered what happened the day before.

"She was watching us talk on the bleachers."

Santana nodded.

"I didn't know she'd get mad at you for that. I thought it was only when I hugged you or something."

"She saw you touch my knee. When we got home, she screamed that I was letting you run your hand up my thigh."

"Oh my gosh, San. I didn't even notice I had touched you. I'm so sorry."

Santana just shook her head.

"And this – " Quinn began, gently touching Santana's cheek, " – this is from when I hugged you Wednesday. I didn't even know she saw. I'm so sorry, Santana."

Quinn's eyes began tearing up. She had no idea she had been causing her so much pain.

Just as Quinn reached over to pull Santana into another hug, the Latina stood up.

Santana knew it was mistake to talk about this, let alone with Quinn.

"Anyways, you think you can finish these up?"

Surprised, all Quinn could muster in response was a stunned, "Yeah."

Santana brushed the rest of the tears away indifferently and took a deep breath in.

"Cool. Thanks, Q," she said, already out the door.

"Wait, San – " Quinn called, jumping to the doorway, but Santana was already down the hall turning the corner.

Quinn walked back to the desk and let her body fall into the chair, still slightly in shock.

Sure, she had figured out what was going on a while ago, but it was another thing to actually see it with her own eyes.

Quinn noticed Santana's scarf still on the desk. She grabbed it, rubbing the material between her fingers as she remembered the bruises all over the Latina's neck.

"Fuck."

* * *

Santana sat in her car in the Pierce's driveway. She looked in the rearview mirror at her reflection, all of her makeup gone. She stared at the purple markings that stained her neck.

"Damn it, I left my scarf," she said, sighing.

She dug through her purse for her compact and eye make-up, sighing again as she re-applied.

She knew if Brittany saw her like this, she'd know something was wrong, and Santana could never lie to her. Even when she tried, Brittany always found out, and the punishment for lying was always worse than what she'd get if she had just told the truth.

Satisfied with her makeup, Santana took one last look in the mirror before getting out of her car and walking to the door, knowing Brittany had left it unlocked for her.

Santana slowly made her way up the stairs.

Not only was she late coming home, but she was late coming home from a meeting with Quinn.

She swallowed hard, a knot twisting in her stomach as she imagined what Brittany would do. Her hand automatically flew up to her cheek, her fingertips lightly pressing on the bruise.

No.

This time, it'd be much worse.

The door to Brittany's room was cracked open, and Santana pushed on it lightly to open it all the way. Brittany was laying on her bed on her stomach, eyes glued to the TV, not even bothering to look up when Santana walked in.

Santana closed the door behind her and walked to the side of the bed.

"Hi, Britt," she said quietly as she sat down.

She had begun to take off her jacket, but as soon as she had gotten it halfway off, Brittany rolled over and switched off the TV.

"Don't," she said curtly.

Santana stopped and looked up at the blonde, her jacket hanging halfway off her shoulder.

"Put your jacket back on. You're gonna be leaving soon, anyways."

Santana clenched her jaw at her girlfriend's icy tone, but she did as she was told, slipping her arm back into her jacket.

She twisted her body, watching the blonde walk over to her desk.

"That's it, Santana," Brittany said, her back still towards her.

Santana just stared at her back, grinding her teeth, waiting for Brittany to hurt her even more.

"We're done."

Santana swallowed, trying to hold back the tears.

Why couldn't Brittany just fucking hit her or something? Anything but this.

Santana breathed in sharply through her nose.

"You can go now."

But Santana remained sitting on the bed, staring at the blonde.

Brittany sighed, clearly annoyed.

"Did I fucking stutter, Santana? Leave."

"No," Santana said, quietly but strongly.

Brittany spun around, a look of disbelief on her face.

"What'd you say?" Brittany said, taking a step towards her.

It took everything in Santana not to flinch.

"No."

Brittany crossed her arms.

"I'm part of this fucking relationship too, Brittany. It's not just up to you when it ends," Santana said shakily, hoping her nervousness wasn't apparent.

Brittany took another step towards her, and Santana stood up, discarding her submissive posture.

She wanted Brittany to know she wasn't backing down. Not this time.

Brittany scoffed.

"Oh, I get it. You talked to Quinn, didn't you?"

Santana ground her teeth in response.

"That's what I thought. Did you play the victim, Santana? Make her feel sorry for you? Did you cry to her and let her hold you?" Brittany asked, her biting tone making every word feel like a kick to the stomach.

"Well, fuck you, Santana. Fuck you, and fuck Quinn," she said, walking away from her.

But Santana grabbed her by the wrist, whipping her around and pulling her close.

"No, Brittany. Fuck you. Fuck you for making me feel like this. Fuck you for this," she said, pointing to the bruise on her cheek, "and this," she said, still gripping Brittany's wrist with one hand as she used the other to point to her neck.

She stared into Brittany's stormy eyes, refusing to back down.

After another second, Santana pushed her away forcefully.

"Fuck you, Brittany," she said quietly, before walking out the door.

"Santana!" Brittany screamed, but Santana was already halfway down the staircase.

"Santana!" Brittany screamed again.

Santana was shaking as she got to the front door, the adrenaline still coursing through her. She heard Brittany coming down the stairs and she paused for a second at the front door, turning around to face the blonde who was standing on the last step.

"Santana," Brittany said again, tears falling from her eyes.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Please, baby, please. Don't leave me. I can't live without you. Please. I'm sorry," she sobbed.

Santana closed her eyes, the last of the adrenaline finally gone, leaving her suddenly exhausted.

"_You_ told _me_ to leave, Brittany."

It took everything in her not to run over to the blonde and comfort her.

"I know," the blonde said, in between tears. "But please don't. Please."

Santana groaned in frustration.

"We can't keep doing this, Britt. _You_ can't keep doing this. I love you, Brittany. So much. But you're killing me," Santana said quietly, letting her gaze fall to the floor as she touched the side of her neck with her fingers.

"I know, San, and I'm sorry. I'm sorry. It'll never happen again, baby. I swear."

Santana shook her head.

"But how long is never going to last this time, Brittany? A day? A week? I can't live like this, Brittany. You know I want to be with you, and I love you more than I have ever loved anything in the world, but I don't think you love me," Santana said, choking back tears.

The thought that Brittany didn't love her had always been a nagging thought in the back of her mind, but this was the first time she had ever said it out loud.

Brittany looked up at her, clearly hurt.

"But – "

Santana cut her off.

"Don't say you do, Brittany. Don't. If you did, we wouldn't be having this conversation. I wouldn't have had to wake up this morning and thank God that it was cold outside so I could have an excuse to wear a jacket and a scarf to hide all of this," she said, gesturing at the bruises on her neck and the ones on her arms covered by her jacket.

"If you loved me, I wouldn't be scared shitless to so much as even make eye contact with Quinn, cus I know you're gonna hit me as soon as we get home."

Brittany opened her mouth to say something, but Santana cut her off again.

"If you loved me, then I'd have more to show for it than some fucking black eyes and bruises."

She looked at Brittany, whose head was hung in defeat.

"And if you loved me, then maybe you wouldn't make me feel like shit more times than you don't."

She watched Brittany swallow, tears still falling from her eyes.

"I'm sorry, Santana," she whispered so quietly, Santana could barely hear it.

Santana just sighed again tiredly.

"Yeah, me too, Brittany," she said walking out the front door.

* * *

Santana got in her car and let her head fall onto the steering wheel.

So it was really over.

Her chest hurt and it was hard to breathe.

_Did I really do the right thing? Why does it hurt so much?_

Santana sniffled and scoffed.

"Sounds like our relationship," she said coldly.

She picked her head up, ready to back out of the driveway when she saw Brittany standing in front of her car, her hands on the hood and tears still in her eyes.

"Please," her crystal blue eyes pleaded.

Santana clenched her jaw.

How could she leave her?

Santana sighed and got out of the car.

"Brittany, please. Don't make this harder than it has to be."

Brittany walked over to her and grabbed her, pulling her in so quickly and tightly, it knocked the breath out of Santana.

"Please don't leave me, Santana, please. I don't know what to do or who I am without you," she whispered.

Santana let herself relax into Brittany's body for a moment before pushing her away quickly.

She couldn't back down now.

"We can't keep doing this, Brittany. I'm sorry," she said, tears in her own eyes as she walked back to her car.

"You were the only person who never called me stupid," Brittany said, hugging herself dejectedly.

Santana turned around, waiting for the blonde to continue.

"And that's when I knew I loved you. But I've loved people before, San. Like my parents, or boyfriends. But they've all left. And I was scared that you'd leave me, too. I was scared that one day, you'd realize I wasn't special, that I was stupid, and that you'd leave. So I tried to push you away, call you mean names. But you stayed. Then I'd hit you when I got angry, and I thought for sure you'd either hit me back or leave, but you didn't. And that's when I knew that no matter what I did to you, you'd stay. You'd stay because you loved me."

Santana shook her head, disbelievingly.

She didn't know if she should feel angry or sad or happy.

"That's fucked up, Brittany," was all she could manage to whisper.

"I know," Brittany whispered back.

"And I'm sorry. Can we start over, San? Please? I'll be good, I swear. Please," Brittany said in a hoarse whisper.

Santana looked at the crying girl in front of her.

This was her Brittany. The scared little girl who just needed someone to stay and love her. This was who she wanted.

Santana walked to her and hugged her, whispering comforts in her ear.

Brittany buried her face into Santana's shoulder.

"I'm so sorry, Santana. I'm so, so sorry," she sobbed.

"Shh, it's okay, Brittany. It's okay. We'll start over, okay? I would never leave you, baby. I love you. You know that."

"I know," Brittany whimpered.

"You didn't have to do this shit to know. And I know you've been hurt and left before, but I don't think I could ever do that to you, even if I wanted to. I love you too much."

Brittany's sobs had turned into silent tears.

"I'm sorry," she whispered again.

"I know," Santana whispered back, kissing the top of Brittany's head.

Santana took a deep breath in and let it out slowly.

The nagging feelings were gone, and the atmosphere was different, like the way the air pressure shifts right after a hurricane.

Everything felt calm.

"Come on, baby. Let's go inside. Everything will be okay," Santana said, guiding her girlfriend back towards the house.

"Everything will be okay," she whispered again, and for once, she felt like everything _would_ be okay.


End file.
